Hermione swallowed and tore her eyes from him. She tugged out the chair in front of her, sinking into it slowly.

"They don't know about Bellatrix yet. That will upset their case against you, but there's something else."

It took all her strength to meet his gaze.

"I need to ask something of you." He pressed his lips together as she continued. "If they learn about the Portkey to Romania and the Polyjuice body-switch now, it will naturally lead to an inquiry about Voldemort's soul fragments and what you did to help destroy them. If we tell them about it now—"

"It may affect Draco's case."

She nodded. "I've spoken with someone I trust, and she thinks they'll use the time to build a stronger case." Hermione's throat clicked in the silence. "They want to see him pay, Blaise. Not unlike the way Luca Bianchi wants to see you pay."

Blaise ran his tongue over his teeth. His eyes drifted to a spot over her shoulder.

"I know you've"—her voice trembled—"I know Draco and I have asked a lot of you over the past year . You should know that if this evidence was used, it would almost certainly pardon you." She folded her hand on the table. "It's your choice. I mean that."

His chains clinked together as he reached up to scratch the stubble on his jaw.

"You ever stayed in Azkaban, Granger?"

The weight on her chest grew heavier. "No, I haven't."

Blaise shrugged. "It's not bad. There's this bread they serve for lunch, and after you've scraped off the mold, it's quite nice."

Her mouth opened. "Oh?"

"Mmm. If you ask me, it's almost an improvement from having three women living on top of me, screaming about misplaced hair products and half-eaten pastries."

Hermione squeezed her eyelids closed as the tears slipped through her lashes. Her lip trembled as she managed to say, "I can imagine."

"And all this time in solitude lets me work on my physique — I'm sure you've noticed." He lifted his chains to flex, and she let out a choked laugh.

The door opened. "Time's up," a gruff voice called out.

Hermione stood, bracing herself on the table. "Thank you."

The humor slowly drained from Blaise's smile. "Bring him home, Hermione."

She felt fire in her veins, her blood singing with every heartbeat.

"I will."

Stepping past the guard in the doorway, she began the long walk back to the fireplaces.

Hestia was wrong. Maybe she could have everything. Just not at the same time.

Chapter End Notes

TRIGGERS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Implied grooming, implied non-consensual underage relationship, domestic abuse

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Chapter 41

Chapter Notes